


Nightmares or memories?

by Shamashe



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Apples, Deep emotional states, F/M, Friendships and loss, Honor, Jack's childhood & war memories, Love, PTSD, Psychology, Romance, WW1 mystery, depth of character, hypnotherapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 09:03:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21353692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shamashe/pseuds/Shamashe
Summary: Jack's having episodic nightmares and his subsequent injuries lead him to seek help - which reveals and recreates a vivid wartime mystery.  Dr. Mac, Phryne and new character, Dr. Dawning, facilitate Jack's journey into his past.  However, things are not as predictable as they may seem!  This one dives deep, with lots of plot twists.
Relationships: Jack & Dr. Dawning, Jack & Dr. Mac, Jack & Hugh, Jack & Jimmy & Danny, Jack & Jonathan, Jack/Phryne
Comments: 12
Kudos: 37





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Even though sound references are part of Jack's "trigger," I got carried away in the original draft and, taking literary license, wrote, "…hearing the empty chamber of a gun." Apparently, such a thing is not possible. Sorry, Jack! You're good, but not that good! Needing to investigate further, I sought out expert advice and was given a detailed tutorial about the workings of the kind of pistol Jack would use. As a result, to reflect more accuracy, I rewrote Jack's uber-sensory description to Phryne about Hugh's close call. I want to offer my heartfelt appreciation for the care and time spent on the extremely interesting and comprehensive demonstration offered by Range Master Sgt. P! Another "good man."

Chapter 1:

Rumble. Squish. Click. Silence.

Senses to high alert! Gripping his weapon, shifting his weight, holding his breath - listen, listen!

There, to the right - breathing? Or is it his heartbeat? 

Turning quickly, he reaches forward, but is suddenly restrained.

He struggles, grunting, trying to throw off his attacker, but he’s held fast by the restraining force. “Aaaaggghhh!” He jerks back violently. 

And wakes to a jolt of searing pain!

“Oh, God, not again!” 

He went still, feeling the pain throb through his already swelling wrist - smashed against the headboard in his desperate attempt to escape the tangle of covers twisted around his arms and shoulders. 

Jerking the covers free, Jack sat up, breathing raggedly - mopping his brow with the sheet he finally managed to untangle himself from.

He padded wearily into the bathroom and stood, holding onto the sink, trying to control his breathing as he held his wrist under the tap. His vision was blurred as he looked up at himself in the mirror. Trying to clear it, he saw himself at another age, looking at himself with a set of war weary eyes. He closed them and leaned forward, resting his forehead against the mirror while the icy cold water soothed his swollen wrist. 

\---

“How long might this go on?” It was the question he had asked Dr. Mac, not one week ago, when she pulled him aside during a case, demanding that she examine his bandaged wrist. 

“I don’t know, Inspector, I suppose until you can resolve whatever is causing these nightmares. Meanwhile, you need to take precautions so you don’t further injure your wrist.” She gave him a wry smile, “Perhaps padding your headboard? Sleeping without sheets?” She turned away. “Have you told Phryne about this? Maybe she could help you with it?” 

“This doesn’t concern Miss Fisher, doctor, this is my own problem to solve.” 

“Then solve it, Inspector!” She touched his bandaged wrist. “This is the third time now - much more of this sort of thing and you risk breaking it! Might I suggest you talk to a colleague of mine who specializes in recurring trauma.”

“You think this is caused by stress? I’m a Police Detective, doctor, I am well equipped to handle the ‘traumas’ inherent to the job.”

“Yes, I thought you might say that. But I am not talking about some simple palliative conversation. I am talking about techniques that can take you back to whatever is causing this. It’s possible your nightmares may be triggered by something long forgotten. You know as well as I do that if you can bring the problem to light you can resolve it. Surely your investigatory mind would want to know?”

“Yes, but I did that bit long ago, after the war. Why would something come up again now?”

“As I said, Inspector, I don’t know, but I do know that you are endangering yourself by not finding out! So review the obvious - Have you met someone from your past recently? Been reminded of some old problem?” Jack shook his head slowly. “Well, I can prescribe something for the pain that might make you sleep better of course, but it won’t keep you from having nightmares.”

“I’d rather not.”

Dr. Mac cocked her head and said rather bruskly, “Then, Inspector, you may have to choose some other course of action that will bring you some relief. You look terrible. And I’d hate to see you further injure yourself.” As he raised his eyebrows she said kindly, “Perhaps reconsider talking to Phryne about it? You two always seem to be able to figure things out together. Either way, you’re going to need some help if this continues. Think about it!” 

He did. He went over his cases and looked into his personal journal, but nothing. No single event had occurred, no case, no person met had reminded him of anything irregular. The only anomaly was that he had not seen Phryne in over a week, as she had been gone on a case she was working on. 

He missed her. He wondered if he should take a few days off and go see her. “But what if this continues?” He said to himself, “she would know.” He sighed, shaking his head. She would want to help and he didn’t want her help with this. It was too personal, too private. He didn’t want to feel diminished in her eyes and was concerned that he would blurt something out that would offend or upset her. He never considered that she might be triggering something in him. 

\---

Rumble. Squish. Click. Silence.

He leaped up into a crouch. Yanking his arm away from his perceived attacker - spinning around to deliver a blow to incapacitate him. Maybe he could get answers from this one while he held him at gunpoint? 

Only he couldn’t seem to hold his weapon steady. He felt an intense pain in his hand – had he been hit? Everything was turning grey as the dawn. He couldn’t seem to focus correctly. He wiped at his eyes - was that blood? Somehow his attacker had managed to get away from him, “I must follow…” but he couldn’t move. 

Jack woke up to realize that this was yet another nightmare. He looked down to where he was holding his bleeding hand and wrist. When his vision cleared, he looked up and saw the bloody, dented wall. He looked back down at his hand and wrist and slowly sank into the bed from the place where he was crouched at the head of it. 

As he focused on the pain, he started to weep. For himself, for the people he had loved and lost, for shattered dreams and deflated hopes. For unfulfilled desires… He didn’t know how long he had been lying there - huddled in a ball in the middle of the bed - until the phone rang next to him. It didn’t register for a moment, but then he picked it up in an automatic reaction. 

“Inspector?” No answer. “Sir?” Constable Collins knew the line had been picked up, but when Jack didn’t answer, he figured something was wrong. “Sir, are you alright? Sir? Inspector! Do you need help?” Hugh was just about to hang up and drive over to Jack’s house when he heard his voice answer somewhat weakly.

“No, Collins, I’m fine, thank you. No need for worry. I just couldn’t answer for a moment. Is this anything urgent?”

“No, Sir, nothing urgent, it’s just that it’s past lunchtime and I haven’t seen you here all day. I was wondering if you were not coming in or were held up on a case I wasn’t aware of?”

“That’s very considerate, Collins, but no, I was just delayed. I’ll be there shortly.”

“Yes, fine, well, I’ll see you then. Thank you, Sir!”

As Jack hung up the phone, he again became aware of his hand and wrist. The pain had stopped and he was no longer bleeding, but he was black and blue from his knuckles to his wrist. “How long have I been unconscious?” He looked at the clock by the bedside. It was nearly 2:00 p.m. 

He took a quick shower and dressed with some difficulty, after binding his hand and wrist with some gauze he found in the bathroom. He gulped down some stale coffee from the day before as he left. In the car, he realized that he would have to wear gloves to conceal his wound and he would probably have to go and see Dr. Mac again. He thought about what evidence he might have on his desk that would justify him needing to wear gloves to “examine” it. 

\- - - 

“Do I need to say it, Inspector?”

“Just patch me up please doctor, I’m really not in the mood for another lecture.” 

“Well, you’re going to get one if you ever have his happen again. How was it this time?”

“Similar, but slightly different. Apparently, I punched the wall, thinking it was an attacker.” 

Dr. Mac tisked and shook her head. “Inspector! Jack!” He looked up at her. “I’m serious - if this occurs again, I will have no choice but to intervene. You must talk to someone. Have you given my colleague further consideration?” Jack shook his head. “Have you attempted to contact Phryne?” Another shake. “Do you think she would react negatively about this? After all, she was in the war as well, if that’s what this is. And if not, she’s certainly been through life enough to know what’s what.” Jack shook his head again. “Jack? Do you think so little of her that you wouldn’t allow her to help you?” 

At that, Jack looked up with some of his old spark. “That’s just the problem, Dr. MacMillan, I don’t think so little of her - I love her! And I don’t want to be diminished in her eyes because of this. I should be able to handle it myself.” 

Mac shook her head. “Well, Jack, if you love her, then let her see you loving her. Reach out to her and let her help. I think you might be surprised at what she is capable of. And I strongly doubt that she would view you as diminished because of something like this. If anything, it could create a tighter bond between you. Perhaps that strong of a bond could help you through this? Perhaps it could supplant whatever demons are plaguing you? One way or another, if this continues, you will be needing help with it, so let her help if she wants to. Wouldn’t you want to know, if the shoe was on the other foot?” Jack nodded. 

“Then be the ‘noble’ hero that you are, Jack - to yourself. Let her see you in this light. Let her know this part of you. Let this wound you carry be healed through the power of love. Yours - and hers!” Jack looked up with a question in his eyes. “Oh, Jack, don’t you know it by now? Phryne loves you too! She’s just scared to say it. Maybe together, the two of you can find some way to work through this. Now, be off with you and tend to that hand. And remember what I said about my intervening, because I will!” 

\---

“Anything I can get for you, Sir?” 

“Wwhat? Oh, Collins, I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Can I get you anything before I leave, Sir?”

“Leave?”

“Yes, Sir. I’m going off duty now. I was wondering if I could get you anything before I go?”

“Oh, right, ah no, Collins, thank you though. Have a good evening.” 

“Sir?”

“Yes, Collins?”

“If you don’t mind my asking, Sir, are you feeling alright? You seem--distracted. Would you like me to check the duty roster for a post relief?”

“Kind of you to offer, Collins, but no, I’ll be fine. Go home. It’s been a long day.”

“Yes, sir!” With a careful last look around Jack’s office, Hugh left for the night, but he couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was wrong with the inspector. He was more than a little concerned. Especially given how close a call they’d had a few nights ago. He decided to ask Dotty to ask Miss Fisher to look into it for him. Perhaps her not being around lately was the cause of the inspector’s malaise. 

\---

Jack had wrapped up the case requests, finished the night reports, finished the log and finished the duty roster for the coming week. He was actually caught up and looking for something to keep him occupied. He had volunteered for double duty, taking the night shift to allow his counterpart an extra day of leave. Perhaps work would keep him from having nightmares. He reasoned that he could sleep in snatches during the day tomorrow, thereby avoiding the night terrors, as he had begun to call them. It made sense. It wasn’t the first time he had lost a night of sleep for the job and he doubted it would be the last.

“Damn! If only Phryne hadn’t left town!” At least he could always count on her for a reprieve. But he couldn’t keep counting on her presence to avoid dealing with his own problems. Dr. MacMillan was right. If he didn’t find the source of these nightmares, he might unconsciously put himself in harm’s way. “But what is it?” He just didn’t know. He had been over and over things and nothing added up. Running his fingers through his hair and loosening his tie, he sat down at his desk again and started disassembling his weapon - laying out the tools to clean it properly. At least this required his full attention so that he wouldn’t dwell on his other problems. 

Push. Pull. Brush. Wipe. Repeat. Scouring the barrel, clearing the chambers, checking the bullets. He methodically cleaned and reloaded his revolver. Testing every lever, checking every part, oiling and wiping every inch of it. Just routine. How many times had he done this? His mind wandered. 

He remembered the first time, being taught by his instructor at the police academy. He’d been overconfident - thought he would automatically know how to clean a weapon. He had, after all, loaded his father’s rifle when they went hunting. He had also played with toy guns as a child. He had excellent coordination and a good sense of how a weapon should feel in his hands, but somehow he had felt inept holding the pieces of it. He remembered he had fumbled, mis-loading a round. Mercifully, his instructor hadn’t seen it. 

The station was oddly still, like a pause... Jack walked to the door and stood, straining to hear any noise. Silence. “It shouldn’t be silent.” Back at his desk he sat, staring at his weapon, thinking he should… something? Click. He waited to hear the sound of a hammer being cocked, feeling a need to automatically respond. But this sound was different, reversed somehow. It was hollow, an echo… He wondered why? He heard a familiar voice trail off, “All ready son? There’s a good lad. Report what you find then.” Squish. “Squish, squish - squish, squish,” he could hear the boy run off. Jack shuddered. 

Rumble. “At last,” he thought. “It must be the supply carts? Delivering in the predawn? Enemy troop movements?” He felt himself tighten inside. He heard what distantly sounded like a bullet being chambered. Then silence. “Why was there silence?” He closed his eyes. “Click, click, click, click. Squeeek.” The air moved in front of him. He heard a whoosh. Silence. “Why was it silent again?” 

“JAACK – NOOOO!”

He opened his eyes to see Phryne standing rigid against the doorframe. Her eyes wide, her hands clenched. “She was back! Phryne was back! Glorious, beautiful, elegant, Phryne. She was here at last. Why was she here? Why was she standing so still by the door?” He looked down. He was holding his weapon, pointing it at her. “Why was he pointing his weapon at her?” He took a breath and lowered his weapon, putting it on the desk. He looked up - she was still standing by the door. 

“Is it safe to come in yet?” 

“Safe? Why was she asking if it was safe? Oh, his weapon.” Another breath… The moment passed.

“Please do come in, Miss Fisher.” 

“Miss Fisher? Well that’s quite a welcome home now, isn’t it? Would you mind telling me why you were pointing your weapon at me? You looked like you were planning to use it!” 

“I was cleaning it, you just happened to walk in at the moment I was checking it.” 

“I see, so you were just checking your weapon? Well, it is good to be prepared. Anything else I should know? Like who you might be expecting to walk through that door?”

“Phryne, I can explain.”

“Yes, Jack, please do explain. And why are you working the night shift? You hate working the night shift! I came home expecting you to show up for the dinner I had invited you to. When you didn’t show up, I decided to come looking for you - and here you are. Found at last!”

“Yes, found, at last.” She gave him an odd look. “Welcome home, Phryne. I am very glad you’re back! You are a welcome sight indeed. Care for a drink? I’m on duty, but you… Well, you’ll do what you want anyway, you always do.”

“My, that sounds ominous. I will have that drink thank you and then I am going to sit down and listen to your story. I understand a great deal has been going on for you lately?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Well, let’s just say I have it on good authority that you haven’t been playing tennis lately. Lovely gloves by the way. New? I don’t believe I’ve seen that particular pair on you before.”

“Stop it, Phryne! I’m wearing gloves to protect my hands, nothing more.”

“Perhaps you should go see Mac and get them checked?” 

“I’ve seen her. She’s checked them.”

“Nothing serious I hope?”

“Not yet. I’m following her advice, that’s all.”

“May I see them? Perhaps I could help you to feel better?” 

“I’d rather not, Phryne. Not tonight.” 

“Well, I guess I’ll just go then. Now that you’re ‘alright’ that is!”

“Phryne!”

“Please do let me know when you feel up to a visit, Jack. You are always welcome. Ta ta!”

Jack watched her turn and walk away, knowing that she was miffed, but that it was probably out of her concern for him. No doubt she had talked to Dr. MacMillan. But just how much she knew was uncertain. He owed her the truth, but couldn’t see calling her back just now. He wanted to see if he could get through a night without the “terrors” again. But then he remembered that she had walked in on him having one of them. Asleep - but awake… And at the point of him almost shooting her because he didn’t know what he was doing in that moment. 

“Oh, God, what if I had shot her?” Jack sat down at his desk and put his head in his hands. “What was he going to do? Was he going crazy? Maybe he was being haunted, as he had heard someone say one time. Haunted by the memory of someone or some event? Was he having ‘battle fatigue’ symptoms again? Survivor guilt? Why now - after all these years?” He had heard that it could be triggered by unrelated events years later. Maybe it was time for him to contact that colleague of the good doctor.

His shift ended with no further incidents. His counterpart was “extremely grateful” for the additional time. Jack just nodded. He told Hugh that he was going home to sleep, but would be back later that afternoon.   
But later that afternoon, Hugh got a call from Dr. MacMillan, informing him that Jack was in the hospital with a badly broken wrist and a possible compartment hemorrhage in his hand. She said he was going into surgery shortly and that she would call with further developments. 

Hugh immediately called Dotty, who immediately told Phryne. As Phryne collected a few things to take with her, Dot tried to reason with her to wait until they heard something, but Phryne was going to see Jack and no one was going to stop her.


	2. Nightmares or Memories?

Chapter2: 

Three days later, a heavily sedated Jack struggled with his restraints - made so that he couldn’t break open his cast, which extended from his thumb to his elbow. 

Phryne had been at his side almost the whole time - holding his hand and talking softly to him when he seemed near consciousness. She soothed him when he was agitated, encouraged him when he seemed better and generally tried to comfort him, only leaving for short periods of time to take care of her own needs. Dot brought her food, a change of clothes, a blanket and a pillow. Others came and went, but Phryne was not going to move until Jack came around. 

Periodically, he would start to rouse, but then started to struggle and cry out and was sedated again. He kept muttering something about a boy, but she couldn’t make it out. His condition was serious and his injuries had required extensive surgery, but it was felt that he had a good chance at full recovery, “…if he was careful and didn’t repeat what caused him to be injured to begin with.” 

Mac told Phryne that he had come to her with previous trauma to his wrist, apparently brought on by his nightmares. She was, of course, concerned with his physical health, but she strongly recommended that Phryne help him to realize that he needed to seek help to get to the cause of his declining mental health. “He is aware of what is happening, Phryne, but he is caught in some kind of traumatic recall loop that is being set off or triggered by something or someone, real or imagined. He has to find out what that is in order to stop this from happening.” 

Phryne stayed with him through the nights, hoping to head off his nightmares. She often curled up on a large waiting room chair an orderly brought in for her. Trying to engage him, she told Jack all about the case she had been working on in Adelaide, asking questions and his opinion about it, willing him to come to consciousness. She chatted about the various goings on in her household and told him funny stories about how Hugh and Dot and Jane were getting on. She read him the newspaper and the little notes that Mr. B included in her meal baskets. She even put his favorite gratin under his nose, trying to get him to smell it. She sometimes sang to him and often talked to him about what kind of a man he was – what she knew about him and what she admired about him. At one point, late at night, she even confessed that she was in love with him. 

Many times he mumbled, often incoherently about pain and loss and fear and bravery. About what was precious to him and about not revealing himself. At such times he would reach for where her hand usually was. If it weren’t there, he would anxiously call out her name. So Phryne made sure that she stayed in proximity to him at all times, even sitting on his bed or laying next to him occasionally. In those moments, he would bury his head on her shoulder and sigh deeply, at one point, beginning to weep. She stroked his head tenderly and held him close, as he seemed to fight some inner battle - come to some inner awareness. He held onto her with a surprising strength. Gripping her at times, as though he was trying to pull her away from something known only to him. Once, he hurt her and she involuntarily yelped. Moments later, fully lucid and seemingly his old self again, he said, “I’m so sorry, Phryne, I didn’t mean to hurt you, please forgive me.” 

“Jaack!” but he was unconsciousness once more. This time, it was Phryne’s turn to cry. 

\---

Rumble. Squish. Click. Silence.

He couldn’t move. Any move he made would jeopardize everyone around him, so he waited in the cold grey dawn. Quiet, still, immobilized, wanting to scream out a warning, but knowing it was too late. He could do nothing. Nothing by wait… 

“Phryne! Phryne, wake up! Nurse, help me with her please. Phryne!” When Mac saw Phryne slumped over the side of Jack’s bed, she decided enough was enough. It had been over four days and she had not left his side. She was physically and emotionally exhausted. 

Mac was going to attempt to bring Jack out of the sedated state he had been kept in since his surgery. Not knowing how he would react when he came to, she didn’t want Phryne to overreact out if her exhausted state. It wouldn’t do either one of them any good if they tried to “help” each other. Knowing them, they would. 

They pulled Phryne up and placed her in the oversized chair she had been using as a makeshift bed. Then Mac had the chair, along with Phryne, moved to the other side of the room, with orders to keep her there until further notice. She made sure that Phryne would be able to see and be seen by Jack in case either of them needed the confirmation of the others presence. And then she gave Jack a shot to bring him to consciousness. 

Without knowing it, she held her breath. So much would depend on the next few minutes. Two people’s lives hung in the balance. Jack would certainly regain use of his hand and wrist, but if he could not fight his inner demons, he would not be the man she once knew. Phryne would also be diminished. “Funny,” Mac thought, “That’s the very word Jack used when he expressed his reticence to tell Phryne about his condition. Diminished.” Yes, both Phryne and Jack could be affected in unimaginable ways, both trying to be strong, both fearing an unrecoverable loss, perhaps even succumbing to it… Mac shook her head and watched Jack carefully for signs of his returning consciousness. 

When he opened his eyes, Mac could tell that he was in pain, but was aware. Confusion, then limited comprehension dawned in those ever-examining eyes. Then a depth of sadness such as she had never witnessed. “Jack? Do you know who I am? Can you speak?” Jack’s voice was weak, but clear. “When you are through, Dr. McMillian, I’ll be happy to answer you.” At that, he gave a very slight grin, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Yes, he was conscious. 

Suddenly, a not unexpected commotion began to happen. “I don’t care what she told you, let me go!” Mac turned around to face a furious Phryne, struggling with the orderly attempting to hold her in place. Mac waved him off as she walked over, but then corralled Phryne. “He’s just awake, but you will stop this childish behavior before you can see him!” At her glare, Mac put a restraining hand on her arm. “Phryne, I mean it, I will have you forcibly removed and restricted if you do not behave!” At that, Phryne stopped her movement to push past Mac.

“Phryne, you need to understand. He is conscious, but he has been heavily sedated for close to a week and it is going to take him some time to regain his faculties. Even if he seems normal to you, you must remember that he is still suffering from previous psychological trauma and is still recovering from surgery. He’s more fragile than you think. I’ve given him a milder pain medication, but you must be careful with him. He’s not out of the woods yet - you cannot overwhelm him with your own emotional state! Do you understand?” Phryne nodded, looking much like a forlorn child. 

She took a deep breath. “Does he know I’m here?” 

Mac lifted an eyebrow and said sarcastically, “After that little tirade, I would think so!” 

“May I see him now?” Mac nodded, “But remember what I said, Phryne, you must be careful with him – and behave yourself!” Phryne nodded. 

Through somewhat blurry vision, Jack’s eyes tracked Phryne across the room, attempting to focus on her as she approached. What he saw was a woman fighting bravely to keep from flinging herself into his arms. He felt a smile form. He didn’t know if he was smiling or not, but he thought, “This is what real heroism looks like.” Then he saw her eyes, glittering with unshed tears. They were hopeful, deeply compassionate, full of love. She couldn’t hide those eyes. And that smile. Jack felt his heart beat faster. That smile was for him. 

“Phryne!” he breathed the word. “God, was that feeble voice his?” He cleared his throat, but he didn’t know what to say next. So he just looked at her and reached for her hand. “She was here - he hadn’t imagined it! She’d been here all along. All through the hours when he thought he was lost to this world. She’d been here, holding his hand.” He remembered her touch… Stroking his head, soothing him, even patting his unruly curls into place. And the faint trace of her perfume as she leaned forward and kissed his forehead. Then he felt the wet drop of one of her unshed tears. He tried again, sudden emotion choking his voice. “Phryne, you’re here! I’ve missed you so much!” 

“Mac? Is he awake? Does he know I’m here? Mac, why is he speaking French?” 

“Phryne, he’s just slipped back into sleep from the pain medication. I doubt he’ll be out for long, but you have to give it some time. He obviously knows you’re here, but he may have a little trouble regaining full consciousness just yet. Let him rest now and you also need to get some rest.” Mac waggled her finger at Phryne, half in jest, “Or I’ll sedate you too!” 

They moved Jack into a private room while he was sleeping. He no longer needed to be observed in the post-surgical ward. As they were moving him, he dreamed that Phryne was driving him home in her ambulance.

He slept for about four hours, as did Phryne, but only after Mac agreed to let her stay near him. When she woke up, Jack was again thrashing around, reaching up with his right hand, speaking broken French, “non protégé…” something about “not protected” and what sounded to Phryne like the word, “pommes” - apples. 

As soon as Phryne touched his hand he calmed down and stopped struggling. She had the sense that he was conscious, but perhaps dreaming. “Another nightmare?” If so, apparently he responded to her touch enough to quell it. She would have to tell Mac though and Phryne feared what would happen next. 

\---

Dozing slightly, still holding onto Jack’s hand, Phryne almost didn’t hear Hugh come into the room. She looked up, slightly startled. “Oh, Miss Fisher, I’m sorry to interrupt. They said I could come and see the Inspector now.” 

“Hello, Hugh, no, it’s perfectly fine. I don’t know if he’s awake or not yet, he’s been in and out.” 

“He’s awake!”

At the sound of Jack’s voice, both heads snapped around. “When did you…?” 

Jack looked at Phryne and said with a slight slur, “A little while ago - you were dozing. I didn’t want to wake you.” He looked past her. “Hello, Hugh! It’s nice to see you.” 

“Yes, Sir.” Hugh stammered. “It’s good to see you too, Sir, I mean, Inspector, I mean, Jack. I trust you’re feeling better?”

Jack wondered if he was smiling. “Much better, yes. It seems that I’ve been out of it for a bit. How are things with you? Did you bring Dot with you too?”

“Oh no, Sir, I just stopped by to see how you were doing. They haven’t let me in until now.” 

“Well, how nice of you. Thank you, Hugh.”

“Yes, well, urm, I brought your case file with me too, in case you were up to knowing what has been happening. Dr. MacMillan didn’t seem to think it would upset you. Oh, I mean…”

“That’s alright, Hugh, seems like things need sorting out don’t they? I’m sorry if I made things uncomfortable for you down at the station. I haven’t been myself lately it seems.” Hugh simply smiled and nodded. “So what did you bring me?”

“The reports have all been taken and accounted for. It’s been ruled a simple accident.” Jack nodded. “The milkman claims that he didn’t see you and his son says he didn’t know what you were doing until the door closed and he couldn’t open it because of the tilt of the wagon.”

“Yes, he probably couldn’t have, given that his side was higher. How is the boy holding up? This must have been traumatic for him?” Phryne shot Hugh a look.

“He seems to be alright, Sir, a bit shaken, but back to normal by all accounts. He didn’t really seem to know much of what happened anyway.”

“No, he wouldn’t.” 

“All that remains now, Sir, is to take your statement - when you feel up to it that is.”

“Yes, I understand. As there’s no urgency to this now, I’d like to wait a bit, unless you need me to do this right away?” 

“No, Sir, waiting is fine. I’ve checked with the Chief Inspector already.”

Jack flashed a quick grin then said sarcastically, “I’ll bet he’s been cheerful about all of this!”

Hugh flashed an equally quick grin and said, “Well, Sir, you know the DCI!”

“Yes, well. I’m sorry to cause you all of this Hugh. I will try to make it up to you somehow.” 

“No need, Sir. We all just want you to recover. I’ll make sure things are done right, no worries.”

“I know you will, Hugh. You always do, don’t you.”

“Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir!” Hugh cracked a big toothy smile. 

“And, Hugh.” He looked up. “Drop the ‘Sir’ for now, right?”

“Yes, S…” Hugh flushed. “ Feel better, Jack!” It was Jacks turn to smile.

\---

As Hugh left, Phryne rounded on Jack. “Well, that was a fine piece of acting.”

“Phryne!”

“Tilt of the wagon, Jack?” She had that look that said nothing but the full story would do and she would do anything to get it. “May I see the file, Inspector?” 

“I’m at your mercy, Miss Fisher.” He grinned, but his look said, please be gentle!

She read through the report with equal parts curiosity and fear. Jack filled in the bits he could remember to her careful questions. However, the bigger question remained, why did he react the way he did? Though unspoken, both were aware of its import. 

Jack replayed the scene in his head as Phryne was reading the report again. 

He was just home from the night shift, just at the grey of dawn. It had been raining, so he was carefully walking down the street from parking his car. He saw the milkman leave off his bottles and head back to his truck, which was oddly parked at an angle. He seemed to be shoving a young boy ahead of him that Jack hadn’t noticed before. Without thinking, Jack quickly walked over to the passenger side of the truck, out of sight of the milkman, intent on “rescuing” the boy if needed. Just as he was reaching through the half opened door, the milkman – also the boy’s father – slammed the back doors shut, causing the passenger door to also swing shut, directly onto Jack’s arm, just above the wrist. 

Jack screamed in pain, the boy tried to push the door back open and the milkman, who had run to the side, tried to pull Jack free of the heavy door. “Are you alright, mate?” When he saw that Jack had been badly injured, he called out to the boy, “Joey, quick now, go get help, this man needs a doctor!” He opened the door far enough to get Jack’s hand out and lowered him to the ground, quickly looking to make sure that Jack’s arm and hand were still attached. Then he wrapped his apron around Jack’s bloody wrist as best he could. “I’ve told that boy a dozen times to stay clear of that door…” Through his pain, Jack said, “It wasn’t him, I reached in.” The milkman stared at him. “Why would you do a fool thing like that - couldn’t you see that I was closing up the truck?” But Jack had already passed out from the pain. 

He was watching Phryne as she read. There were tears in her eyes when she got towards the end. She looked up. “No use looking for clues, Phryne, there are none. Not about this,” he held up his cast, “Not about the nightmares either. I simply don’t know why.” 

“There has to be something, Jack!” 

“Honestly, Phryne, nothing. I have been going over and over it in my mind and there’s nothing. No single incident stands out that would cause these occurrences.” 

“Perhaps it wasn’t a single incident, Jack, perhaps it was several things all roiled up, you know how dreams can be, everything all stuck together.”

“Perhaps, Phryne, but could we do this later, please? As you said, I was acting - I really am quite tired again.” Phryne gave him a look that said she thought he was putting her off. But he was already asleep. 

“We’ll figure it out, Jack. I promise you.” She took his hand and kissed it, he squeezed back slightly in return but then went slack. He wasn’t faking it. He was asleep again. “Rest, Jack, get some rest.” Phryne turned to leave just as Mac came into the room. 

“How’s he holding up?” 

“Hugh came to see him and he was doing well, even joking around. We talked about his accident after he left and then he just gave out.” 

“Phryne?” 

“Honestly, Mac, I just read the file and we were talking when he dropped off.” 

“Well, that’s not unusual. He’s only been lucid for a day. He probably gets fatigued easily from the buildup of the pain medication. He’ll be more alert once he weans off of it.” 

“Perhaps, but he seems right on the verge of uncovering something and then he drops out of it.” 

“Give him time, Phryne, he’s been through a lot.” 

\---

“Tell me about your last case, Jack – can you?” Phryne reached out for his hand. They were sitting outside near a fountain, in an enclosed park like area of the hospital. 

“I think so.” He smirked. “We might have actually used you as a decoy, but you were gone. It was a stakeout on a couple of thieves. Pretty routine actually, except for the rain. We were acting on a tip to catch them in the act.” 

“And did you?” 

“Yes, as I said, pretty routine – except for Collins nearly getting shot.” 

“What?” 

Jack smiled at her reaction. 

“I don’t recall hearing about that.” 

“Well, you wouldn’t now would you, not with Dot around.” 

“I suppose. But how did you prevent it? I assume you prevented it.” 

“Yes, I did. If clobbering an unwitting teenager could be called prevention? He was left to stand guard, whilst his uncle and father robbed a store. He was more of a hapless victim than a thief I’d say. Didn’t even have bullets in his gun.” 

“How did you know that, Jack?” 

“The rain had let up and I was close enough to hear him click the cylinder closed before he shifted to point the gun at Hugh. He must have checked it. He had to have known it was empty.” At her questioning look, he said, “It’s something I learned in France. They’d send out the ration boys to scavenge for nearby supplies just as dawn was breaking. The CO used to talk them up before they went out. Gave them weapons with no bullets, so they would feel courageous. It was quite a horrible practice. I remember the clicking sound of the cylinder after the chambers had been emptied, although those poor boys didn’t know about that. Given that we were on a battlefield, it’s amazing how acute our hearing was, especially in those predawn hours.” Phryne nodded. 

“So what happened with the thieves boy?” 

“Well, basically, we tricked him. One of the constables gunned his car motor and the boy thought he had been left behind. When he turned to see, I snuck up on him and grabbed him. But in his fright, he pulled the trigger. I don’t even think he meant to - he was just scared. At which point I got the weapon away from him. I thought Collins was going to wet himself. Poor Hugh. Poor kid.” Phryne found herself grinning at Jack’s description, despite the seriousness of the situation.

“It’s funny, he kind of reminded me of our old milkman’s son – used to come around with his dad on his deliveries. They always used to come at dawn. I remember how it used to scare me as a kid, them suddenly appearing like that. Just appearing out of the grey fog, like some kind of apparition. We used to tell ghost stories about it sometimes. My brother and Danny, that’s the milkman’s son, used to be mates and walk home from school together. Sometimes they’d let me tag along when they stopped by the park to eat apples.” 

At Phryne’s questioning look, he said, “There was this big apple tree next to an old man’s house by the park and when he wasn’t home, they would steal apples and sit on the fence eating them. My brother used to throw apples at the rats. Got um too! He was dead accurate. Used to say he was doing the city a service so he deserved the apples in return. 

I remember my brother spitting seeds at me and then laughing as I tried to dodge them. It was all in good fun, but I remember how Danny used to “accidently” push my brother off the fence when he got too rambunctious. One time he told me that it was his way of protecting me. He was only a couple of years older than me. Said his brother used to spit apple seeds at him too and hit him right in the eye one time.” Jack’s voice trailed off. “Danny was always a kind boy and always observant.” He blinked. “But then they moved away and I never saw him again, except once during the war.” He took a sudden breath and closed his eyes, frowning. Phryne looked at him, taking his hand. 

“Jack?” 

He opened his eyes. “No, it’s nothing.” He looked around, “I think I’d like to go in now, Phryne, I’m feeling quite tired again.” 

\---

A week passed and Jack was healing rapidly. He also had not had any more nightmares, or none that he spoke of. He was officially on medical leave, but couldn’t manage for himself yet, so Mac released him into Phryne’s care, or rather, the care of her household. 

Several nights went by without incident. Hugh came by for dinner one night and Phryne managed to get Jack to sing along as Hugh surprisingly plunked out a popular tune on the piano. Phryne smiled at him. “You’re quite the man of hidden talents, Hugh!” 

Dot beamed at him and said, “Yes, he’s just full of surprises, isn’t he?” Every head quickly turned towards her. She immediately blushed and jumped up, offering to freshen everyone’s drink. 

Later that night, when Phryne went down to the kitchen, she asked Mr. Butler how he thought Jack was doing. “He did seem to be acting a bit odd tonight, Miss. When I checked in on him a while ago, he seemed restless. I thought I heard him muttering to himself, in French no less! I didn’t know the Inspector spoke French! But perhaps he’s a man of hidden talents like his young constable.” His smile was kind, but his eyes were concerned. 

“Thank you, Mr. B. I appreciate you keeping an eye on him. Please let me know if you notice anything else unusual. Though I suspect it would be hard to miss.”

Rumble. Squish. Click. Silence. 

The dawn fog was deep grey, solid yet viscous, like a ripple of silk, seemingly impenetrable. Yet out of the haze, a figure appeared on the horizon, coming out of the nearby trees, moving fast and keeping low. The runner was expected, yet traversed dangerous ground. Jack watched his progression, sensing something familiar about him, something he felt he should know, but he was pulled back to the duty at hand. 

He heard a clicking sound and spun around, only to see his aide collapsing a cot. They were headed out again. He checked his weapon and fastened up his uniform buttons. Every move practiced, mechanical. When would this greyness lift? He missed the sunshine of home. 

He looked around and headed towards the mess tent, squishing through the never dry sod. Everything seemed muffled, yet every sound was exaggerated. He could hear his stomach rumbling. He wished he were at one of the villages where he could get a good meal - fine French cooking was one of the few luxuries available in this dismal place. 

He felt uneasy, even somewhat angry. He did his duty with excellence and honor, but also with the knowledge that his actions were often futile. It was a challenge to his innate sense of order and resolution. “Damn! The rain must be starting again.” He saw a drop splash on his glove. 

Jack woke up suddenly - crying. Long into the night he shed his tears of frustration, fear and guilt. Phryne heard a noise from his room and quickly went to his door, listening for telltale sounds that he might be in danger. But all she heard was muffled sobs of anguish. She turned and slowly walked back to her room. 

The next day brought sparkling sunshine. Thinking that a walk through the park might be enjoyable, she met Jack on the stairs. He looked red eyed, but alert. As soon as he saw her, he brightened up. “Good morning, Jack! Have you noticed what a beautiful day it is outside? I thought perhaps we could go for a stroll through the park today. What do you think?” 

After crying himself out, Jack had managed to get some sleep. The thought of an outing with Phryne appealed to him. He was feeling a little housebound, even if it was within the opulence of the Fisher household. He wasn’t a man prone to inactivity - It had been a long few weeks since his accident. “I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, Miss Fisher.” He gave her an impish grin. Phryne’s heart lurched. Maybe her Jack was back?

It seemed ideal. What started out as a short stroll, turned into stopping to watch the swans. A passing vendor sold them a packet of “feed” and they sat, tossing out handfuls of it, laughing at the antics of the smaller birds, which soon parted to make way for their stately cousins. The beautiful black swans had come up out of the pond en masse for their share of the bounty and were walking beak to tail in their slightly ungainly way. 

They stopped in a line and stood expectantly, waiting for the next toss, shooing a few, less patient birds away with high-pitched, whistles. Jack gave them a mock salute, then threw them a large handful of “feed.” They almost delicately scooped up the feast, but then went into an acrobatic display of arching their long, S-shaped necks and dancing around each other. He commented, “It’s funny how they are so graceful in the water, but not when out of it.” 

Phryne mused, “I suppose they must get unbalanced when they’re out of their natural element.” Jack glanced over at her with an odd look on his face. 

They resumed their walk, moving into the shade at the edge of a thick grove of trees. The ambient noises dulled and it seemed that everything was momentarily still. Jack seemed to be breathing a little hard, so Phryne suggested that they stop again. They sat on a park bench and watched a gardener tend to his various duties. Jack said, “I miss being able to do those normal things.” 

“You will again, Jack, she patted his hand - you will.” 

As they continued, he reached for her hand. They had to walk carefully in places to avoid the muddy areas on the path, their shoes making a slightly squishy sound as they sidetracked onto the grass. Hand in hand, they walked under the trees until they emerged near a small carnival type fair. Childish laughter rang out as the small Ferris wheel rumbled up and around. 

They stopped at the confection stand near the edge of the park where the smell of popcorn and spun sugar made their mouths water. Jack immediately bought popcorn and then, responding to one of her quips with a laugh, bought Phryne a candied apple. Feeling playful, he demonstrated the “manly art” of catching a tossed popcorn kernel in his mouth. She smiled. “Is there no end to your talent?” 

He took a bow and grinned, then pretended to be serious. “It takes years of practice!” Then he crunched the kernels noisily in a comic pantomime. Phryne chuckled at his light-heartedness and bit into her apple with a snap. 

Jack suddenly spun and crouched, reaching for a weapon that wasn’t there. Phryne was alarmed. “Is there something out there, Jack?” She quickly looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary. She helped him stand up. “Are you ok?” 

He was sweating and breathing rapidly, his eyes unfocused. He put out his hand for her and held hers for a moment, then closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked at her with a sadness she had never seen before. “Phryne, I think I need to make an appointment with Dr. MacMillan’s colleague.”


	3. Nightmares or Memories?

Chapter 3

“Mr. Robinson, come in please.” Dr. Dawning held out her hand to shake his and motioned for him to enter. Jack hesitated for just a moment then took her hand and said, “Call me, Jack.”

She had a well-appointed and comfortable looking office, more like a home than a medical facility. Obviously it served to put people at ease. 

Unlike his own office where visitors had only one choice of seating (except for Phryne that is) Dr. Dawning’s office had a variety of places to sit and differing types of furniture. One could sit by the window and look out over a lush garden, or recline on a chaise lounge, or sit at a small table or simply sit near or in front of a desk. “Please, sit where you wish, Jack.” He chose a seat by the desk out of habit.

Dr. Dawning was gracious and engaging. Offering him a cup of tea or coffee, hanging up his coat and hat and generally moving around to allow him time to observe his surroundings. Jack appreciated her awareness. He often employed the same technique. 

Once she sat down, she began by complimenting him on his “courage and willingness to help himself out of the set of circumstances he found himself facing.” Jack took a breath. She was direct. “I know you know why you are here. So rather than my explaining the whole process to you now, I’ll leave it to you to ask me what you want to know as we go along. Do you agree with that?” Jack nodded. “I noticed that you came with a woman. Do you have a strong desire to have her present right now?” Jack looked up and blinked. Then he shook his head. “Right, well, if you find that you need to have her present, just tell me. Or, if I find that I need to call her in, I will do so. Do you also agree with that?” Again, Jack nodded. 

She looked at him carefully, noting his general physical state and attitude. He looked like a man who was comfortable being in control of himself and his surroundings. But at the moment, he looked exhausted and confused, perhaps even frightened. Given what she had read in Dr. MacMillan’s report, she could understand why. 

His case intrigued her. It was an area she specialized in, but his problem seemed both more complex and yet, more simple than her usual cases. Clearly, he was a man of conscience and integrity. Having this occur in his life now might be difficult to surmount. Yet he seemed genuinely willing to tackle the problem. That always helped. She had been told that he had made the choice to do the work necessary to provide a solution. 

He was a senior police inspector, so she assumed that he had both training and experience that would serve him in facing some of the harsher realities that might come up. Apparently it had so far. Additionally, he had the woman, Miss Fisher, as his ally and supporter. Dr. Dawning had heard of her. She was a formidable woman with her own level of experience in these matters. He obviously had a strong emotional connection to her. That would serve them both well. But at the moment, he simply looked like a man in need of an answer - A man whose life was rapidly falling apart. 

She respected that he was willing to take a leap of faith and ask for help. He obviously wanted to understand so that he could cope - It would be his nature, given the work that he did. He wasn’t manically desperate, nor was he so depressed that he was unreachable. She had the feeling that if he could be guided into allowing the real situation to surface, he would almost instantly, be relieved of his burden. She noticed that he was through looking around the room and assessing her. He was now looking at her with expectation. 

“Do you have any questions for me before we start?” 

He tilted his head. “How much do you know already?”

“I have read the file that Dr. MacMillan gave me as your referral. I have a general idea of what you have been experiencing, both from those reports and from my professional experience. But I am not you, obviously, so I do not know what you are experiencing. We are here to investigate that and to bring you relief from the episodes you have been having. In essence, we are here to bring you back to a sound and healthy life.” At that, Jack grinned. It was the type of answer he would give. 

“So where do we begin, doctor?” She smiled.

\---

The time passed quickly with both Jack and Dr. Dawning in agreement that they should continue with a few successive sessions over the course of the next week. She asked him the obvious initial questions about his family, friends, habits, hobbies and work to get a general sense of his ties and commitments. She asked about his wrist and how he was feeling now. She asked when he first started having this problem and what he was aware of about it. 

She also asked about his military duty and his transition back to his life after the war. Specifically, she asked about the debriefing process he underwent for what was generically termed “Battle Fatigue.” Most soldiers who served at the front line had some experience with the phenomenon and most of the Anzac troops received discharge evaluations along with their pension review. 

Then she asked about his nightmares. “Have you ever had them before? Were they like this?” That brought him up short. He had been expecting the question. Preforming the answer. But their discussion had been so congenial, so seductive in its ease that he was suddenly surprised by it. All he could do was nod. Instantly remembering how his ex-wife used to wake him up, asking if he was ok. 

At the time, having nightmares was thought to be somewhat normal for a man who recently returned from war. But while he couldn’t remember the specific content, he did remember the shame and humiliation he felt at having such sudden and uncontrollable outbursts. He had always felt that it was a cause of his marriage failing. He tried to keep it inside and work through it himself, but, when asleep, it came out again and he couldn’t seem to prevent it. And, while concerned and caring, his wife simply wasn’t able to comprehend what was causing it. No one who hadn’t been there could have. Apparently, he said this in response, though he didn’t remember saying anything. 

Concluding the session, Dr. Dawning said, “Jack, it’s clear that you have a deep seeded guilt about, perhaps, a singular occurrence during the war. It may be even deeper, possibly going back before the war. The work we are doing will help to uncover just what it is that you carry within you. We also will be working with freeing that guilt and anything else attached to it. The fact that the pattern of your nightmares has shifted into a waking state may mean that you are ready to reveal it to yourself and let go of it. You may simply have reached a point of feeling understood and supported by the people and resources you have around you now. From what you have told me, most of them have had related experiences to what you have been through. That may be letting you have an ease that you didn’t have when you were married. 

In the course of our work, we will discover what is causing you to react, or experience memory loss about parts of what you have done. Once we do that, you may experience an almost instant release. Many people do.” Dr. Dawning was watching him carefully as she spoke to him. He seemed more relaxed now than when she asked him the question about his nightmares. To her, it was a further indication that he would be able to let go of what plagued him. 

“Jack, Dr. MacMillan described you as having a strong sense of honor and integrity. She said you are capable of great depths of emotion but have an appropriate sense of when to display it. The fact that you are having an experience that is taking you out of your normal behavior patterns may be making you feel more emotion than normal. You may feel wrong for having it, or perhaps that you have failed in some way because you can’t control this thing that is happening. 

I want you to think for a moment of people you have encountered in your profession who have had to deal with extraordinary events. Think of what you have told them – how you have eased their guilt or suffering and helped them to gain perspective. You knew their reactions were part of the shock of an intense experience didn’t you?” Jack nodded. “Can you see yourself having a similar experience now?” Again, Jack nodded. “Something extraordinary occurred in your life. It shocked you, enough that you buried it inside, but with time and now, with help, you can bring it out and deal with it. It is in your nature to do so. As you have helped others, you can help yourself.” Jack was nodding again and looking down at the desk. Then he looked up at her, his eyes focused and alert. 

“When do we start?” 

She smiled warmly. “We already have.” He gave a slightly lopsided grin and nodded once more. “As I’ll be seeing you again tomorrow, I’d like you to simply relax for the rest of the day and enjoy your evening. Don’t think too much, don’t worry about what’s to come; don’t be concerned with what you can or can’t do. Begin to simply let go of your concerns and enjoy the pleasant moments again. I suspect that your Miss Fisher out there, will be happy to provide you with whatever you might desire.” At that, Jack’s grin became a smile. 

As he walked out the door, Phryne kept pace and was quiet. Before long, Jack said, “How would you like to go get an ice cream?” 

“An ice cream, Jack?” She couldn’t keep the surprise out of her voice.

“Yes, doctor’s orders to enjoy myself – with you!” He flashed her a grin. “I happen to know of a place that makes a terrific sundae! And it’s not too far from here.” 

\---

They sat in the midday sun, shaded by a lush, flowering tree, eating truly decadent Ice Cream sundaes. Jack felt free. Better than he had in some time. Not completely past worrying that something might occur, but trusting that he had help to handle it. He decided to take the doctor’s advice and loosen up a bit. After all, he was, in effect, stepping out with, The Honorable, Miss Phryne Fisher herself! A part of him, he admitted, was puffed up with pride to be seen with her. He also quietly admitted to himself that he felt a sense of almost boyish infatuation when he was around her – puppy love, for lack of a better term. But then, he smiled, he was no boy and the love he felt for her was not infatuation. 

He looked at her. She looked calm and cool and lovely as always. But a small frown wrinkled her brow and she glanced at him covertly from time to time. “Probably wondering if I’m alright,” he thought. 

Impulsively, he said her name as he dipped a finger into his ice cream. When she turned towards him, he reached over and dabbed her on the nose, leaving a little glop of ice cream on it. “Jaack!” She squealed. Then he quickly swiped it off and sucked his finger. She raised her brow questioningly. He was playing with her she realized. This was a side to him that she had never seen before. 

“Penny for your thoughts, Miss Fisher?” He grinned at her with a certain air of innocence about him. 

“A penny?” She smiled widely and just as quickly, dabbed him with her own finger of ice cream. He started to laugh, wiping it off and again, putting his finger in his mouth. He pulled it out with a pop.

“I’m ok you know! I know our last outing ended badly, but I believe that things are changing. Dr. Dawning reminded me of something. She said that I should let go of my concerns and enjoy the ‘pleasant moments’ again. It’s been a very long time since I have done that. 

I became a serious man, Phryne. A very serious man! But in the process of becoming that very serious man, I forgot what it was like to be carefree and happy. I forgot how to enjoy life and began to settle for what was available. I’m not complaining, nor am I saying I didn’t choose. But you said something to me not long after we met. You said that you ‘hadn’t taken anything seriously since 1918.’ I remember thinking how nice it would be to be able to feel that way. How much I wanted to not be so serious all the time. It’s taken this experience to make me realize it. To ‘let me’ remember what it was like to be a little silly and a bit carefree. 

I feel like I’ve been given permission somehow to not spend the time in between episodes of, whatever this is that I’m going through, waiting for it to occur again. I feel like maybe I can enjoy the ‘pleasant moments.’ I certainly enjoy being with you! Phryne, I’m so grateful to you for staying by my side and for taking care of me. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I wanted to tell you that at least. There’s so much more I want to say, but I am afraid that if I get too emotional right now, it might somehow create another incident and I don’t want that to happen. I just want to enjoy our ‘pleasant moments’ here today.” 

Phryne reached out her hand and Jack took it, stroking it tenderly. She smiled and then said, “Well, Jack, pleasant as this is, if we sit here holding hands all day, our ice cream is going to melt all over the place.” Jack looked down and watched a piece of his topping slide down the outside of the glass. He slid his hand back and grabbed his spoon saying, to the ice cream, “Oh no you don’t, I want to savor every delicious flavor of you.” He looked up at Phryne when he said it – playful yes, but all trace of the “boy” gone. Phryne just smiled back at him. This was going to be an interesting new adventure.


	4. Nightmares or Memories?

Chapter 4

The night passed without incident and the next day, Jack was back in Dr. Dawning’s office, telling her about his newfound sense of self. As he said it though, he became less animated and more serious again. He took a deep breath. But it’s not over is it? This isn’t gone yet. He adjusted his seat on the chair and took another breath, looking at her expectantly. “So what do we do today?”

“I suggest we start with the last incident and see if we can identify the signals that seem to create this situation. I can’t guarantee that you won’t have another episode, but I can say that you are in a safe environment here. If something occurs, I can assist you with it. Also, Miss Fisher is right outside the door should you need her. She can’t hear what we are saying in this room, but I can call her in as we agreed.” Jack nodded. “Please make yourself comfortable, Jack. Feel free to take off your jacket and choose another seat if you wish. I want you to feel as relaxed as you can feel right now.”

For the first time in a long time, Jack wasn’t wearing a tie out in public. He reached up to loosen it just as he realized it. It caused him to grin. Dr. Dawning noticed it, but made no comment. She too found it amusing.

“Now, Jack, I’d like you to take a few deep breaths and again, let your body relax in any way that feels right for you. You can leave your eyes open or you can close them. I will remain where I am as we proceed.” Jack nodded, adjusted his seat slightly, took a breath and closed his eyes. “I’d like you to remember back to the last clear memory you have, before you felt the beginning of an episode.” Jack started to take another deeper breath, but it hitched up and he began to shake his head slightly. “You’re ok, Jack, you are safe here. Just relax and let your senses bring you back to your last clear memory. You were with Phryne weren’t you?” Eyes still closed, Jack nodded. Dr. Dawning waited.

“We went for a walk in the park. We were watching the swans. Feeding them. I remember how they lined up and I threw them a salute. Phryne was laughing. I thought they looked like those plumes on the hats of the royal guard. I saw them once when I was a boy. I remember my brother pushing us through to the front of the crowd so we could see as the royal train rumbled by.” Jack took a breath. “Phryne and I were walking and we went over by the trees to get out of the heat. I remember thinking that Phryne’s parasol was big enough to be a tent. 

She said she wanted to sit down, so we did and I remember watching a gardener replant the hedge flowers and doing things I wished I could do.” Unconsciously, he raised his cast up and then laid it back down on the chair arm. “I used to long to be home in my garden….” He stopped, taking a quick breath. “I remember the grass felt squishy where we went around the muddy parts of the path. Phryne was wearing green shoes and I remember looking down and almost not being able to see them.” He paused. “I lost a shoe that way one time at the beach. We were squishing along and then I couldn’t see my shoe. I must have stepped out of it. I remember my brother and his friend lifted me up by the arms over the bramble patches.” He paused again. 

“I helped Phryne, so she didn’t mess up her shoes in the grass. I remember feeling like someone was hiding behind the trees. I kept looking for them. I felt like I wanted to protect Phryne from them. But I also knew that it wasn’t real. Then we came to the edge of the park and there was a little local fair there. A bunch of children were riding a miniature Ferris wheel, just like I used to do. I remember thinking that it needed oil, because the gears were grinding and it rumbled when it moved up and around. 

We stopped and I got some popcorn while Phryne was deciding what she wanted. Even though I was off duty, I wondered if I should go over and break up a couple of kids I saw, who ran out of the trees and were fighting over by the fence. But then they stopped and Phryne pointed to this great big candied apple and I bought it for her. I was clowning around and tossing the popcorn into my mouth and then it happened. I heard this loud click, or maybe it was the crunch of the apple. All I remember was everything going quiet, which was odd because there were children running around and playing and shouting and fighting. Then I saw Phryne holding me up and I told her I wanted to call you. 

I don’t remember anything else. I don’t remember going back to her house. Everything since then has been kind of grey. I don’t remember much about the last couple of days, except that it was raining, I think.” Jack took a sharp breath and sat up a little straighter. He opened his eyes and looked down at his hand, it was wet. 

He shook his head. He looked back up at Dr. Dawning. “It wasn’t raining was it? I was crying wasn’t I? I blocked out some memory didn’t I? Something else happened didn’t it?”

“You tell me, Jack, what do you think might have happened?” 

“I don’t know. I just don’t know!” Jack was starting to get agitated. Moving around in his seat, he suddenly stood up and accidently banged his cast against the arm of the chair. “Damn!” He turned pale and grabbed the chair, feeling faint. 

“Why don’t you sit back down, Jack.” He did, almost falling into the chair from the pain that was shooting up his arm. “Do you want me to call Dr. MacMillan for you?” He shook his head. “Why don’t you take a few minutes and rest then. Let the shock of hitting your injury wear off. We can talk again in a bit. I am going out the door to talk to Miss Fisher for a moment. Is that ok with you?” 

“I don’t need her to come in Doctor, I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, Jack, you will be, but I want to ask her a question that might help us uncover something relevant to this event. Do you agree?” He nodded. “Lie down if you feel like it, Jack, let your body recover from this shock. I will be back in a few minutes. You can call for me if you need me. I’ll just be right there,” She motioned to the door.

\---

Jack sat back in his chair holding his cast, muttering to himself. “God, my arm hurts! Why was I so careless? And why was I crying?” He felt like crying again. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His head hurt, his ears were buzzing, the room was starting to spin. 

He could hear his brother’s voice. “Breathe, Jack, come on breathe! That’s it, take a breath, come on now, come on! That’s better. That’s right. That’s better. You’ll be alright now. Come on little brother, sit up for me, ok?” Jack felt the light slaps on his face that his brother gave him to wake him up almost 20 years prior. “Come on, Jackie!” His brother stood up and walked around to his back like he was going to pick him up. 

Jack heard another voice and saw his brother’s friend, Danny, shoving at his brother’s chest, hard, with both hands. “Why would you do that to your own brother you stupid prat? You could have really hurt him! Jack’s just a boy - you should protect him! You’re his big brother! You should have listened to me! Why didn’t you stop when I told you too? How would you like it? You’re no better than my old man!”

Jack came to, lying on the chaise in Dr. Dawning’s office. He didn’t remember going over to it. He lay there for a few minutes feeling sad about the memory. His brother had been throwing apples at rats, like he often did and then had thrown a big apple right at him, like a baseball and it hit him in the head and knocked him down, knocking the wind out of him. Danny, his brothers friend, had yelled out, trying to warn him - protect him, as he had at other times, but his brother was being a jerk and thought it would be funny to make Jack run back and forth to dodge the apples, so he kept throwing them at him.

“Danny! I couldn’t… protect!” Jack yelled out and then started to cry again. And that was how Dr. Dawning found him. She laid a lightweight blanket over him and then sat down next to him. When he looked up at her, it was with the eyes of a child. He blinked, coming back to recognition of her. When he seemed ready, she said, “Jack, who’s Danny?”

“Danny was my brother’s best mate. He was our milkman’s son and he used to be kind to me when my brother would pick on me.” 

“Do you know what you meant when you said you couldn’t protect? Were you trying to protect him?” 

Jack took a sudden, halting, deep breath, searching for an answer. “I, don’t know.” 

“Jack, I think you do know. I think it’s all part of the guilt you carry. What happened to Danny?” 

Jack started to cry again, sobbing, as the memory hit him full force. Dr. Dawning stayed by his side and let him cry, not attempting to alter his experience. “He died! And I couldn’t protect him!” He started sobbing again. She handed him his own handkerchief. “Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to die?” Jack continued to cry until he finally reached a point of silence. Dr. Dawning looked at him carefully and realized that he had fallen asleep. She rose and went out to talk to Phryne.

\---

“Don’t worry, Miss Fisher, Jack is fine, he’s just resting. He would have never had the chance to cry when he was in the war. And it’s doubtful that he was able to fully come to terms with it directly after. Recalling it now is allowing him to truly grieve the experience and grieve for himself as well. It’s perfectly normal. 

But I feel that he has reached a point of a significant breakthrough. I am going to clear my schedule this afternoon and continue to work with him, as I believe that he is ready to acknowledge something very deep within him.” Phryne nodded gravely. “I believe that once Jack acknowledges his memory, he will be able to absolve himself of the guilt he carries. Perhaps even of his surviving when others didn’t, though I am not presuming that at this time. However, it may be as simple as that for him to reverse the episodic attacks he has been experiencing. 

The pattern he has been displaying lately is not uncommon to those who are ready to resolve their issue. I feel confident that he is at this point. So I am going to regress him with hypnosis to bring him back to the war event that seems to be the primary reason for his episodes and possibly the childhood event or series of events that made him develop this sensitivity. It seems to be based around his brother and his friend.”

“Danny?” 

“Yes, did you know him.” 

“No, but I have heard Jack say his name.”

Dr. Dawning continued. “He has mentioned apples several times.” Phryne was nodding. 

“Yes, he had his last episode when I bit into a candied apple. Are you saying they are connected?” 

“Yes, Miss Fisher, although I doubt that you, specifically, had anything to do with it. But somehow the sound of that apple, combined with other factors present, seemed to set this off. From what you described, he assumed a classic protection position when he had the episode. You said he seemed to be reaching for his gun. He was not armed was he?” 

“No, but when he is on duty, he is.” 

“Yes. And he would have been as a soldier too.” Dr. Dawning paused. “I will be instructing Jack and gaining his permission to do this therapy, Miss Fisher. I would like for you to remain here, in the event that I need you to fill in a voice or perhaps a sound effect. It might be useful. I believe that Jack can rid himself of this trauma, if not in full, then at least to a great degree if we pursue this right now. Do you agree?”

“Yes. And I am happy to remain. What would you like me to do?”

“Well, first, please take care of any personal necessities to make sure you are ready to be here for what may be a few hours. Perhaps also eat something, but not apples please.” Phryne grinned at that, but Dr. Dawning looked at her seriously. “Miss Fisher, we may be introducing ‘apples’ into this treatment, but I don’t want him to smell them and set off an episode prematurely.” 

Phryne nodded, “Of course.”

“Give us a short while please and I will let you know how and if we are going to proceed. I am going to let him rest for now. He will be safe. I will be here with him and then I would like you to sit with him while I make some preparations.” Phryne nodded again, fascinated by the process and by Dr. Dawning’s professionalism.

Phryne sat with Jack once again, holding his hand. As she sat down, though he seemed fast asleep, he reached out for her. Phryne looked closely at Jack. A bit rumpled, uneven in his coloring, hair slightly askew, seemingly off somewhere, dreaming, as he was mumbling soft, incoherent words. He looked tired and held his body tightly, even though he was unconscious. How she wished him peace. 

She missed him. Missed his keenly probing mind and solid presence. Seeing him like this made her realize just how much holding to his honor had cost him. Who would he have been able to tell of his experiences? Who would have understood? He seemed like a man who had come to grips with the “horrors of war.” She supposed that facing crime and the criminal element inherent to his job, let him cope with whatever residual he had. But to be laid low by apples? Phryne understood more than he knew. She had own set of childhood scars. She knew it took a person of character to withstand and overcome the lingering effects. She would do whatever she could to help him through this. 

Jack was just waking up when Dr. Dawning came back into the room. He seemed unaware that he had been asleep. He was rubbing his head when he sat up on the chaise. Also unaware that he was sitting on it. “Am I sitting here for some purpose, doctor? Did you want me to lie down? Is Phryne here to help with something?” He seemed alert, but confused. Like he was picking up the thread of a conversation in progress. Phryne supposed that was probably true. Then he looked at her and back at the doctor. He shook his head, sighed and said, “It happened again, didn’t it?” He laid back on the chaise and put his hand up to his face rubbing his eyes.


	5. Nightmares or Memories?

Chapter 5

He was already in a light hypnotic state. Dr. Dawning began to make deeper suggestions. “Jack, I want you to listen closely to what I say now and do exactly what I tell you. I want you to follow my instructions; no matter what you think is happening. Do you agree?” Jack mumbled, “Yes.”

“I am going to take you back now to when you were last in France in 1918. Do you remember, France?” He nodded. “I am going to act as your escort now and be by your side to keep you from harm. It will be as if you can revisit the places you were at and relive the things you experienced without any threat or fear. It will be real to you, but you won’t be in any danger. Whatever you observe or notice will not cause you any concern. You can allow events to occur and acknowledge them, but you won’t be directly involved in them, nor have any residual guilt or fear from them. 

You may tell me what you observe. Any information you reveal will be secure. You may lead me through the scenery and any events. Through you, I will also be able to see and hear what occurs without any harm to either of us. Any event or circumstance that comes up can simply be viewed as if from a vantage point. You will be aware of it, but won’t physically be a part of it. Once acknowledged, you will be able to distance yourself from it and allow it to fade out of your memories. Whatever you experience, you will be removed from it and notice it only as an observation. You aren’t required to analyze it, nor make any judgments about it.” Jack was now fully in a deep trance and was nodding at Dr. Dawning’s suggestions. 

“I want you to let the memory of your last day in the trenches come forward now, knowing that it is safe to do so. Knowing that the same thing will not happen ever again. I want you to describe it. Begin at the beginning of that day and continue through the experiences until the end of that day. Recall clearly in your mind, in every detail that matters to you, the sights, sounds, smells, tastes and touch of everything and everyone around you. How did you feel emotionally?” 

As she was talking, Dr. Dawning watched Jack carefully. She noticed that he was reacting to her suggestions physically. Yawning, stretching, touching his face and chest as though getting dressed. He put his hand out as if flipping through a sheaf of papers. He cradled an object and reached back to his side. Dr. Dawning assumed it was his weapon. He reached forward and lifted back as he was describing looking out from his tent. He shivered as he was recounting the cold. Pantomiming putting on gloves. He spoke of being hungry. Then he hesitated. “Jack, I want you to describe what you are seeing and feeling right now. What is it you are seeing outside of your tent?” 

Tears were falling down his cheeks as he said, “Children, I can see the children of the dawn running out of the trees near the fence-line. Squishing through the mud to get to the camp. They are returning from their scavenging. I can hear them reporting in. I can hear them returning their weapons. Their empty weapons! I can hear the clicks as the Sargent reloads the weapons, and his voice as he tells them what ‘brave lads’ they are. 

I hate the sound of his voice. It rumbles like a truck. He sends those poor boys out thinking they are brave and then they get killed, trying to grab some trivial item to take back and present, so they can be told how brave they are. I wish could protect them, warn them, stop them from going where they go, so often to their deaths. It’s such a waste of life and it’s a lie that’s told to them. How can a man lie to a child like that? How can he send them out there unprotected? Arm them with no bullets?” Jack was shaking and stopped talking.

“Yes, Jack, you heard the sound of the weapons with no bullets. It was a very specific sound wasn’t it? Listen to the sound, Jack, but realize that you are not affected by it anymore.” Dr. Dawning had asked Phryne to unload her gun and bring it in. Now she asked her to dry fire it with each prompt to Jack. He jumped at the click of the hammer striking in the empty chamber, both the first time and the second, and then he was still. He said, “Yes that was the sound, the sound of their deaths.” 

Dr. Dawning jumped in, “No, Jack! That is the sound of a gun, no more than that. No more than an important sound to pay attention to. But it is not the sound of children dying in war. Do you agree?” No response. “But there are other clicking sounds you notice aren’t there, Jack? Other clicks that you hear.” His head was nodding slowly. “Tell me about them. Continue on with the day.”

Jacks voice became mechanical, like he was reading a logbook. “I feel upset about the boys. I walk through the squishing sod over to the mess tent. I can hear the supply trucks rumble up behind the tent. I can hear the clicking of the forks on the metal pans they serve food on. I can smell the food, but it makes me feel nauseous. I hear snatches of conversation about our operational orders and another units joining us as we move forward. I hear the voice of one man that sounds just like my brother. I look around, but I don’t see him. After mess, I head over to the latrine. I squish through the sod, past the area where they are reloading the weapons and issuing ordinance to the supply master. I can hear him yelling something at a Sargent about listening for the sound of a new kind of trip wire for the mines. I look at him as he mimics the sound it would make if it tripped. I can hear his loud clicking imitation. I hear him mutter something to the Sargent and then start laughing. I go into the latrine. I can’t hear anything, it’s completely silent, almost like the war outside doesn’t exist.” 

“And then what happened, Jack?” 

“Then I could hear the transport trucks rumble in and the men squish through the sod. I joined them and we rolled out towards the trenches. I kept hearing a loud clicking sound where the pin held the tailgate in place. It didn’t seem very well set. I remember feeling suddenly scared that the truck would bounce me out the back and I would land on one of the mines that littered the borders of the road. 

Then we entered a forest and the trucks came to a halt. It was dead silent. We were encased in a thick, grey, dawn fog. When we disembarked, we all stood side by side, because the fog was so thick we couldn’t even see each other’s faces. I kept hearing the click of weapons being readied. Then we moved out towards a fence line and down into a trench. It was muddy and every sound seemed like it traveled a long way.” Jack’s voice trailed off and he seemed to be shaking. 

“What did you do there then, Jack?”

“Nothing, we waited, that’s all.”

“What did you do while you waited, Jack”

He started to shake again and started to sweat. He took a deep breath and started making motions like he was loading a rifle. “What are you getting ready to do, Jack”

“It’s my rotation on the lookout tower. I have to gather perimeter intelligence and signal it back to the runner. But the fog is so thick. I don’t know if he will be able to see it.” Jacks voice sounded almost childlike. 

“You’re doing well, Jack. Remember that you are only observing what’s happening. Tell me about this tower and what you are supposed to do. Describe it for me.” 

“It’s dangerous. We have to draw lots each time to do the duty. The tower is built out of wood and extends just above the top of the trench. We developed a sort of telescope that we could extend up and swivel around to see further out. We had to keep oiling the thing, because the mud would creep in and make it squeak and sound traveled. We couldn’t let ourselves get spotted because of that noise.

I had to crawl up inside of the structure and stand on a platform above the fire step so that my head was just above the parapet. We had to lean back against the support to make it look like our helmets were just another sandbag hump. From there, I took readings of the perimeter and potential air raid activity. There weren’t many trees that survived the bombs, but we had hauled a tree stump over by a large boulder to camouflage the tower. One of our snipers was assigned to watch the boulder. 

The fog was too thick to use the signal flags. I had to send messages out by flashing a light to the runners back at the fence line. Occasionally HQ sent a special runner back to us with updated intelligence. It was my job to spot them and get the trench-men up to pull them to safety before a sniper or a mine got them.” By this time, Jack was acting nervous and his voice was shaking. 

“Jack, tell me what you are seeing right now, what you are doing.”

In a halting voice, he continued. “I’m watching the fog move in, thicker than before. I can see shapes and shadows move in and out of it. Moving from mound to mound, planting small flags. I’m signaling to my runner, but I can’t see his return signal.” Jack paused and took a deep, shuddering breath “The fog is starting to lift. I can see him now. He looks familiar. He’s coming towards me. I can see him wave another runner away from him, signaling him to go around the other way. He’s stopped, making sure the other runner has gone back. He starts towards me again - almost there. I can see the white of his teeth, like he is smiling under his helmet.” Jack stopped talking and put a shaking hand up to his face, over his eyes. 

“Tell me what you observe next, Jack.”

“My runner is almost close enough for the men to pull him in.” Jack paused. “I can hear the click of the landmine he just stepped on. He’s shouting and throws a packet, but the mine blows him to bits.” He paused again. “It seems like it’s happening in slow motion. There is nothing I can do.” Jack was rubbing his neck. “I can feel the heat of the blast.” 

He started to cry, choking out the words. “In the glow of the blast, I can see another runner trying to move past and gather the packet. He’s weaving his way through the scant camouflage of tree stumps. He’s trying to enter the trench line, but he’s stopped. I can hear mines exploding nearby, coming closer. I can smell apples. My god! The runner is throwing apples at the mines to explode them!” Jack stopped talking and went completely still, not even breathing. 

Dr. Dawning gave him a moment and then asked softly, “Jack, why would a runner have apples in the trenches?” 

Jack took a sharp breath and shook his head. “I remember smelling apples when we were stopped in the fog, just off the trucks. Someone told me there had been an apple orchard at the edge of the forest. I think he must have gathered a bunch of them to give to us, but then he started throwing them at the mines my runner had flagged instead.” Jack was shaking and weeping and his voice sounded young. “He was coming straight towards me, throwing those apples. He was trying to keep our boys from hitting them when they went over the top.” Jack stopped for a moment and gave a slight grin as if acknowledging something. 

“Then what happened, Jack?”

“Then a mine went off, close to him and he stopped, half way over a tree stump. He just laid there, like he was stunned. Then he looked up, looked straight at me - gave a cocky smile and took a bite of the last apple. He was starting towards the edge when I heard the click. He looked down and I saw the look of terror on his face. He knew he wasn’t going to make it.” Jack started to cry openly. 

Dr. Dawning let him cry and then said, “What did you do, Jack?”

Jack opened his eyes and looked at her blankly for a moment, then closed them and continued brokenly. “I shouted. I slid down and tried to vault over to the ladder out of the trench - to pull him in before the mine went off. I was reaching out for the rung when I was pulled back, hard, just before the explosion went off. I couldn’t protect him. I couldn’t save Jimmy. I killed my brother!” 

Jack was sobbing by now and Dr. Dawning let him cry before saying, “Jack, listen to me, you didn’t kill your brother, a landmine killed your brother. Your brother knew the risk he was taking.” After awhile, Jack nodded. “Who pulled you back off the ladder, Jack? What do you see now?” 

Jack was shaking his head back and forth. Dr. Dawning asked again, “What is happening now, Jack?”

“Nothing, I’m in the bottom of the trench on the duckboards. I can’t see anything - it’s too dark. I can’t hear anything except ringing. I can’t feel my body. I can’t feel my arm.” Jack was moving his hand back and forth over his cast. He was agitated, breathing rapidly. He started talking more loudly, like issuing an order. “I have to be ready. I have to be alert.” Then he stopped moving and started speaking sotto voce. “I can’t move. I can’t breathe, they’ll hear me.” He was holding his breath. 

Dr. Dawning broke in, saying sharply, “Jack, you can breathe. You CAN breathe! Jack, JACK! Take a breath, Jack!” Jack sucked in a sudden, sharp breath and let it out with a whoosh. “Take another breath, Jack!” He did. “That’s right, that’s good. Take another breath, Jack. It’s ok for you to breath now.” Jack’s breathing started to become more regular and Dr. Dawning continued to talk to him like he was a child. Instructing him to breathe and to let go of the traumatic memory. 

Phryne sat still. She had been watching both Jack and Dr. Dawning closely. Waiting for a signal to do something. But when Jack stopped breathing, she started to get up. Dr. Dawning noticed her movement and put her hand out to signal stop. Phryne was worried. Jack seemed stuck and back in the episodes he had been having. But she stopped and remained silent. 

Then she started to notice the subtle things that Dr. Dawning was doing as she helped Jack through the trauma. She was breathing like him, matching him and then changing her rhythm until he changed his. She was making small murmurs that sounded like other people talking in the background. She was rustling fabric and scratching the wood of her chair. She started tapping Jack on the part of his hand that was exposed, then stroking it lightly. Phryne could see goose bumps begin to appear. 

After a time, Jack stopped crying and shaking and his breathing returned to a deeper state, but he was beginning to struggle to get out of his chair. Dr. Dawning said abruptly, “JACK, describe what is happening, RIGHT NOW!” 

Jack suddenly sat up straight and turned his head to the right and screamed, “Why did you pull me back, Danny? Why? WHY? It was Jimmy! I could have saved Jimmy! I could have saved him! I could have protected him!” Jack face was mottled red with the force of his words, his neck muscles bulging with the strain. Suddenly he went quiet, his face turning pale. He got an almost ethereal look on his face. 

Dr. Dawning watched him relive the moment, then said, “Tell me what Danny is saying, Jack.” 

Jack’s voice sounded soft and innocent when he repeated Danny’s words. “No, Jack, you would have been killed too - and I promised Jimmy I’d protect you.” 

To bring Jack through the rest of the experience, Dr. Dawning asked him a series of questions that led up to when he was in the infirmary, having being shot during the advance. Jack recounted that he repeatedly gave Danny’s name and rank and asked to be notified when he became available. But no one seemed to know when that would be. No one seemed to know to whom he was referring – probably assuming that he didn’t know himself. 

Jack continued to recount the story and spoke of the conversation that occurred later. His CO had come to see him to express his condolences about his brother. After answering the usual debriefing questions, Jack asked him about Danny, telling him of the incident. His CO got an odd look on his face and said, “Robinson, are you quite sure that the person you are referring to is Corporal, Daniel James Montgomery?”

“Yes, Sir, I am.”

“And this incident you speak of, happened on?” He looked in his notebook and stated the date and location. 

“Yes, Sir, it did.”

“At what time?” 

“Approximately 5:45 a.m., Sir.”

“Well, that would be,” his C.O. hesitated and cleared his throat, “Very irregular indeed.”

“Why is that, Sir?”

“Well you see, it would be quite impossible. The Daniel Montgomery you describe was a special runner from HQ and was killed in action at dawn, on the very day you describe. Stepped on a landmine, very close to your position, as a matter of fact. He is to be awarded meritorious A.I.F. Chevrons posthumously. You must be thinking of someone else!” 

Phryne gasped. Dr. Dawning looked closely at Jack to see if he realized what he had said. Jack opened his eyes for a moment and looked directly at her, nodding. “I didn’t believe him and continued to check through channels, but was again told the same story by Danny’s CO. Danny was killed in action while serving as a runner. He was the one I saw coming out of the trees when I was in camp. I thought I recognized him earlier in the mess, but didn’t get to talk to him. I wasn’t close enough later to be able to do anything and then we had to move out. 

Apparently, he and my brother were assigned to the same unit and took turns running special dispatches. I didn’t know they were assigned to my forward area yet. Danny was the runner who saved the other runner from the minefield. He was the runner who was smiling, just before he was blown up. Probably glad to see me. Jimmy must have been his back up.” 

Dr. Dawning said calmly, “Are you telling me that Danny’s ghost saved your life?” 

Jack snorted, “It certainly sounds crazy doesn’t it? But I know it was Danny who pulled me back. I heard his voice – felt his grip - saw his face. I could do nothing to prevent his death, but it does seem like he fulfilled his promise to my brother to protect me. In the end, all I could do was mourn him and Jimmy.” Jack closed his eyes again, a silent tribute to the boys he knew so well. 

Even though still in a trance, Jack’s voice sounded much like his normal voice. Like he had come to some acceptance. 

Dr. Dawning continued to bring Jack out of his state of hypnosis. “… Forward and backwards, you’ve noticed the sounds from extreme to silence - both ends are now moving towards a middle, a balance, a natural place for them to co-exist. They aren’t separated anymore, they are all one sound with only degrees of natural variance. No one sound, causes the other to be out of balance. No one sound, causes you any distress or upset.

It was only circumstance that caused the sounds you heard around you to be out of balance, circumstances that no longer affect you. Anything in your current life that might cause you to hear or see or feel more than normal, you now have time to prepare for and can adjust as needed. You are no longer required to be on alert. You no longer need to react in any way other than in a normal and natural way. In a way that you know is right for you. 

No matter what the circumstances, you now have the ability to remain balanced. You have found your own healthy way to live. Nothing can affect that. It is yours. It is who you are as a well-balanced man. In your personal and your professional life. You are now able to react and respond normally and naturally. The circumstances of the past no longer affect you in a negative way; no longer cause you alarm, or distress, or concern. 

You are now in control of your reactions and responses. They no longer control you. There is no longer any reason for you to be concerned by them. You now have normal and natural reactions and responses to life. You have become balanced and aware and are now healed and healthy. Anything requiring your attention can easily be met. Any sounds that may have caused you distress before, are no longer distressing to you. You are now completely able to have normal and natural reactions and responses to all situations.” 

Dr. Dawning had been watching Jack carefully, reading his unconscious cues, ready to adapt to the least denial of what she was saying. Noting that he was accepting her suggestions with slight nods, she continued to bring him out of his hypnotic state, making post hypnotic suggestions to bolster his sense of normalcy and enhance his healing. When he was fully conscious, she offered him a glass of water and asked him to remain seated. He seemed calm and nodded with no reply.

As Dr. Dawning walked Phryne out of the room, she said, “He will probably seem perfectly normal, but may be tired. Make sure he eats and drinks more water than usual over the next few hours. Let him talk if he wants to, but try not to stimulate or question him for the rest of the night. He will probably want to sleep. Don’t be alarmed if he sleeps for a long time. It’s his body’s way of resetting itself. He will probably not have nightmares, but if he does, just wake him and comfort him and let him rest. I’ll be seeing him again in a couple of days, but please call me if there are any problems, or if he needs to talk to me. At this point, I can talk to him by telephone. He doesn’t need to come back in until his next appointment.” Phryne nodded solemnly. “And Miss Fisher,” Phryne looked up, “Try not to worry, he has been through the worst of it. He seems to quickly be on the road to recovery.” Phryne nodded. “Thank you. You were an invaluable help.” 

Dr. Dawning came back and spoke with Jack to make sure he was fully conscious and able to function again. They spoke about how he was feeling and she asked if he had any questions. He asked, “How am I doing?”

“Actually, Jack, you are doing remarkably well. You seem to have uncovered the source of your distress and by doing so, have relieved yourself of a tremendous burden. I think you’ll find that, with some rest, you will feel much better, very soon.”

“Should I be doing anything special?”

“Not particularly. Try not to think about it too much. Let yourself be pampered for a few days. I’m sure Miss Fisher will see to that for you. Eat regularly and make sure that you drink a lot of water. What you’ve been through can have a dehydrating effect. I don’t suggest any alcohol tonight. But I do suggest that you try to sleep. Part of the process is to let your body return to normal and sleep is part of what you need to accomplish that.”

“What if it happens again?”

“Then we will deal with it, but I think you have crossed a bridge today and I doubt you will be having any negative effects from it. In all likelihood, you will sleep better than you have for some time. Allow yourself to trust that you have made a breakthrough, let yourself adapt.” 

Jack looked at her for a long time, then finally nodded his head.

“I’ll see you again on Friday. Don’t hesitate to call me if you feel you need to.” He shrugged. “And relax, Jack.” She smiled at him. “Things are already better. Give it a bit of time.”


	6. Nightmares or Memories?

Chapter 6

Phryne drove sedately on their way home, aware of what Dr. Dawning had said about stimulating Jack. He was quiet and looked out the window for most of the drive, but when they came to an intersection, he asked her if they could go to the beach. 

Once there, he just sat and watched the waves roll in. He reached over and took Phryne’s hand. They sat in companionable silence for awhile, then he said, “Thank you, Phryne. Just knowing you were there…” She looked at him with unshed tears. He didn’t look at her, but tightened his grip on her hand. After awhile, they headed back to Wardlow. 

When they walked in, they both commented to the delicious smells coming from the kitchen. “It seems that Mr. Butler is making your favorite, Jack. That gratin smells divine.” Jack sniffed and smiled, taking off his hat and placing it on the rack. “I’m famished, I think I’ll just clean up a bit before dinner.” 

\---

“Mmmm, nobody can make gratin as good as you do, Mr. Butler. Thank you!” Jack looked over at Phryne. “And thank you again, Phryne for taking care of me.” He grinned. “A man could get used to this sort of pampering.” He yawned suddenly, “Sorry, I can barely stay awake. I think I need to call it a night.” 

“Do you need help, Jack? Mr. Butler will be right up.” Jack looked at her oddly then said, “Oh right, Mr. Butler, yes, thanks!”

It was Phryne who couldn’t sleep. Several times she got up and padded over to the guest bedroom where Jack slept. She listened carefully at the door, waiting to hear any sounds of distress from Jack. Once, she looked in on him, but he was sound asleep, curled up and snoring softly. She smiled. 

Around 4 a.m. she again went to his door and listened. She could hear him mumbling and hear the bed creaking. Thinking he was having another nightmare, she cracked the door and looked in. He was asleep, but sitting upright in bed, back against the headboard. He seemed to be propping his cast up on his bent knee. Although asleep, it was as if he was in frozen motion. Phryne suspected that he was back in the trenches, sleeping against the wall, but on alert. He started to mutter, “muuuss sleeeep, waaake meee iiiif…” He was moving his arm back and forth and seemed restless. Concerned that he would bash his cast against the bedframe, Phryne gently said his name. His eyes instantly popped open and he started to rise up. Phryne put her hand on his shoulder and stopped him. 

“Jack, don’t move. You’re ok, lay back down, go back to sleep.” Still asleep, all Jack could see was the shadow of a figure standing next to him, leaning over him. He could see a distant light and, thinking it was the flash of gunfire, yelled, “Get down!” He reached out, grabbed and pinned the figure under him in a protective position. 

Phryne held her breath. She didn’t want to startle him. She didn’t move. She waited until his breathing calmed down and he relaxed his body before she attempted to extricate herself from his grip. But she was wedged under and against him and he was curled around her. It seemed as though he didn’t want to let her go. She took a deep breath and decided to just wait and see what he did next. But he was fast asleep again. She debated about waking him up, but she didn’t want to alarm him. He didn’t seem to be in further distress, so she continued to wait. 

She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, early morning light was coming through the window. She heard Jack’s groggy and puzzled voice next to her ear. “Phryne? What are you doing in bed with me?” 

He rolled off of her and she got up, sitting on the end of the bed to face him. “Well, Jack. It isn’t what you think.” 

He rubbed his eyes and looked at her. “Care to explain?” 

“I was trying to help you with your cast, when you grabbed me and pinned me under you. You seemed to be dreaming. I couldn’t get loose without waking you. I must have dozed off.”

“What was wrong with my cast?” 

“You were sitting up in bed, mumbling and waving it around. I was afraid you would bang it against the bedframe.”

“So you…”

“I was trying to settle you back down into the bed so you could go back to sleep.”

“I see.”

“You seemed to be sleeping upright on alert. You said, ‘get down’ and then grabbed me. I was worried that you were having an episode, so I kept still. You didn’t seem to want to let me go.”

“Apparently,” he said dryly.

Phryne looked uncharacteristically flustered, which made him want to smile, but he didn’t. “Well, you seem ok now, so I’d better go.” She got up to leave when he called her name. 

“Phryne,” she turned back. “Thank you for looking out for me. I’m sorry. Did I hurt you?”

“No, Jack, you didn’t hurt me. I just hope that you’re ok. It’s still quite early, go back to sleep.” 

But neither one of them got much sleep after that, each too aware of the other – each worried that this had been another episode.

“Good Morning, Inspector, care for some breakfast?” 

“Yes, Mr. Butler, thank you! Is Miss Fisher up yet?”

“I don’t believe so. She was up most of the night, so I suspect she is sleeping in this morning.”

“Is she ok?”

“As far as I know, she’s just worried about you.”

“And probably checking on me all of last night too, I’ll bet.”

“Perhaps so. Coffee or Tea?”

When Phryne came down, Jack was outside in the garden, dozing in a lounge chair. Phryne quietly sat down opposite him, sipping her coffee. She watched him carefully, thinking that she should have left him alone last night. She was lost in thought when she heard him clear his throat.

“Penny for your thoughts, Miss Fisher,” he grinned remembering another time he said that to her. She looked up at him questioningly. 

“Did you get back to sleep?” 

“After awhile, it was quite an awakening I had to begin the day, I must say.”

“I’m sorry, Jack, I should have just left you alone last night. I didn’t mean to intrude, I was just worried that you were having another nightmare.”

“It’s ok, Phryne. You didn’t and I wasn’t. I think I may have been dreaming that I was back in the trenches again, but there was no harm done. Dr. Dawning said that I might experience this a few times, but not to be worried. I am sorry that I pinned you beneath me though, are you sure you’re alright?”

“Yes, quite alright. It was just, unexpected.” Phryne looked off into the sunlight, her eyes taking on a luminous glow. She said softly, “Not how I ever envisioned it.” She turned back to Jack, who was staring at her with a curious look in his eyes. 

“Me neither,” he said just as softly.


	7. Nightmares or Memories?

Chapter 7

The next day, Jack saw Dr. Dawning for a last session. 

“How are you feeling, Jack? Have you had anything unusual occur, any more nightmares?”

Jack told her of the incident two nights ago. “It didn’t feel like a nightmare, more like just a dream, one I’ve had before. If Phryne hadn’t come in, it’s possible that I might have banged my cast again though.” 

“Why did she come in?” 

“She claims that she heard me mumbling, so she looked in and found me sitting up in bed with my cast propped against my knee. I remember we used to sit that way in the trenches. If the dugout bunks were taken, we would prop against the wall and use our rifles to keep us from falling over. She claims she saw me in that position, so she came in to help me lay down to sleep again. But I saw the hall light and apparently thought it was a firefight, so I yelled and then tackled her and woke up with her pinned beneath me.”

”Were either of you hurt?”

“No, just embarrassed. No harm was done.”

“Well, we discussed before that you may have these dreams from time to time, but as long as they are contained, you should be safe. It will be better when your cast comes off. I believe Dr. MacMillan said it should be another week. Do you have any other incidents to report?” 

“No, I did what you said and basically rested a great deal. Miss Fisher’s staff took excellent care of me, as did Phryne herself.”

“How do you feel?”

“I do feel better than I have in some time. I certainly was able   
to sleep better. I don’t feel as anxious about losing control.”

“Excellent. Do you have any questions for me?”

“Yes, an obvious one. Why did this start happening to me now? It’s been a decade since the war. Why now? And why in this way?”

“How do you mean that, Jack?”

“I mean - I’m a normal man with normal emotions. Why have I been crying and yelling and acting the way that I have been?”

“Well, Jack, if you think about it, you couldn’t cry during the war. It just wasn’t done. You had grievous events happen to you, yet you couldn’t grieve. Then later, as a Police Officer, you had a similar set of circumstances. I would venture to say that once it came up in a larger way, you simply couldn’t hold it in any longer.” 

“Yes, but again, why now?”

“It’s not unusual to have this come up suddenly when you finally let your guard down – when you start to enjoy life, or feel less pain… In a case like yours however, some event usually triggers it. You mentioned something about a letter.” 

“What?” 

“You mentioned something about a letter when I first met you. Did you receive a letter of some importance around the time that this started?”

Jack looked at her incredulously. Then he slowly pulled a folded, crumpled and worn letter out of his jacket pocket. “I received a letter from Danny’s sister-in-law a couple of months ago. His nephew is doing a school project and wants to meet me. He wants to know about his uncle. He wants me to go to a school memorial.” Jack paused and took a deep breath, staring at the letter. “Are you saying that this letter might be what caused me to start having these nightmares?”

“Yes, Jack, I think it’s possible that you began having suppressed memories come to the surface because of this. It caused you to relive the incidents that took place and caused you to block some of them out. But they wouldn’t go away, they just kept coming back in different forms, eventually surfacing whether you were awake or asleep.”

“But why?”

“Perhaps, Jack, it’s simply time for you to let go of the guilt you were carrying and to let go of the grief that has been with you. You needed to grieve and when this shock came about, it sent you back to the other shocks and drew you back into the war zone. 

The mind is a funny thing. It can protect you, yet it can also take normal, everyday events and make them into threats and problems. It’s part of why you were so sensitive to sounds. You remembered a pattern of sounds and each time you heard a piece of the pattern, it became exaggerated and drew you into reliving it again and again, in pieces. But now that you have done this work with me, you have let go of the patterns and acknowledged the grief and the guilt you were carrying. Because it was surprised, it was seeking an outlet. The shock of Danny’s nephew’s request, quite probably influenced your emotional state and caused you to begin to relive it all again.” 

Jack was shaking his head, thinking.

Dr. Dawning said softly, “It’s fortunate that you were willing to get help with this. Some men never get past it and never deal with it. You are one of the lucky ones. The very courage you displayed in the military, is the same courage it took for you to get help for yourself.”

Jack looked up at her. 

“You value honor, Jack. There is nothing more honorable than facing yourself truthfully. It illustrates a deep level of self-respect. Because of it, you have a greater ability to be aware of how things affect you at a subtle level. Recognizing that ability is a gift to yourself. It allows you to act out of integrity and be comfortable with yourself. It’s what makes you so good at your job, but also what makes you a good man of high character.” 

At Jack’s raised eyebrow, Dr. Dawning addressed his unspoken question. “Now that the suppressed memories have been revealed, they probably won’t be back. You don’t need to worry about behaving inappropriately any more.”

He gave a quick grin, “That will be a relief.”

“What you do from now, will build on your life, Jack. You will have more choice now. You may find that you have a deeper understanding of your needs and better ways of obtaining them.”

At that, Jack smiled slowly. 

“Are you going to go and see Danny’s nephew?” Jack nodded, then took another deep breath. “Yes, I am, it’s time.”

They spent the remainder of their time discussing how he was going to approach it and considering scenarios that might occur. When they concluded, both Jack and Dr. Dawning agreed that he was ready and able to cope with any memories or circumstances that might come up. He left feeling good about himself and feeling confident about meeting Danny’s nephew. 

Later that evening, Jack asked Phryne to go with him. “It’s not for moral support, Phryne, it’s because I feel you should know about the man who so greatly impacted my life.” 

\---

Weeks later, they attended the memorial together. There was a small military honor guard to commemorate the event and a note was read from a Brigadier General and former commander of Jack’s brigade. After a speech by the Head Master, the boys were each called up on stage to receive a memorial scroll. The presenting Officer gave each boy a salute of respect. 

Drumroll... Jack stiffened when he heard the name called. “Master, Jonathan James Daniel Montgomery.” Phryne reached over and squeezed Jack’s hand. He looked at her and nodded with a small, lopsided grin. “It’s ok, I should be here!” 

Earlier, Jack and Phryne had met with Danny’s nephew and sister-in-law for tea. Jack told them about Danny and his brother when they were children. He ended with how he looked in his uniform, showing a picture of his brother and Danny together before they shipped out, saying what great mates they were. He said, “Your uncle saved my life, Jonathan. It was my great privilege to know him.” 

After the ceremony, Jonathan came over to show Jack his scroll. He beamed with pride as he showed Jack a picture he had of his father and Danny together. 

Jack felt a surge of emotion, then felt it pull back, replaced with equal pride. He knelt down near Jonathan and said, “Your Uncle Daniel was a brave officer and a good man. He was a protector and a hero. You should be proud. You look just like him you know. He would have loved to be here with you. 

In the high voice of a boy, Jonathan looked up and said, “But he is, Mr. Robinson. Can’t you feel him? Him and my dad both are. That’s what they said, that they’d always be with me, no matter what.” He gave a huge smile and walked off to join his schoolmates for photographs. 

Jack stood up slowly and when he turned around to face Phryne, his eyes were misty, but he was smiling. He offered her his arm and they left, strolling through the vine-covered archways of the school grounds. 

\---

Phryne said, “It’s quite beautiful here, isn’t it?” 

Jack looked over at her, gave her another smile and said, “Yes, very beautiful.” 

As they exited the grounds and walked towards the car, Phryne stopped for a moment to brush off a large piece of sticky foliage that had fallen onto her shoulder. The sun shined brightly and she pulled out her sunglasses. Jack was standing still, waiting for her, observing her. She instinctively wondered if he really was ok. He looked ok, but he seemed to be considering something important. 

She smiled up at him and said lightly, “Well, Jack, what’s next for you?” 

“This!” Jack turned and pulled Phryne in towards him, running his hand through her hair as he drew her into a lingering kiss. 

Sometime later, still breathing unevenly, she quipped, “And what was that?”

Jack stroked her cheek and smiled tenderly, “A normal and natural response!”

**Author's Note:**

> I started to write this as a Halloween mystery, but realized that it is really more fitting as a tribute to the armistice of November 11, 1918, also known as "Remembrance Day." Over 100 years ago, we ended "The Great War." May we find a lasting world peace!


End file.
